


Sirius and Remus Raise a Child

by byebyebluejay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Parents, Domestic, First War with Voldemort, Fluff and Angst, James Lives, Lily Lives, M/M, Minor James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Not Canon Compliant, Platform 9 3/4, Sirius is the Potter's secret-keeper, parent wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2018-12-17 12:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11851455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byebyebluejay/pseuds/byebyebluejay
Summary: As the First Wizarding War rages on, Edgar and Maya Bones and most of their family is killed by Voldemort and his supporters. However, their infant daughter is found miraculously alive after the attack. Though already burdened with responsibility for the Order, Remus and Sirius, who have especially wanted to raise a child after Harry's birth, leap on the chance to adopt the baby.





	1. Phoenix Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ikkanna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ikkanna/gifts).



> This first part is pretty angsty, but after this chapter, everything will get a lot lighter.

Sirius had been steely all morning—too cold and too sedate—so Remus had known he was going to snap. He had held out for the entire service, but he was sobbing now, shoulders shaking with silent tears, hair wild, every muscle tensed, as the coffins of Edgar and Maya Bones were lowered, side by side, into the earth. One of over a dozen fresh graves cut into the gray, winter grass of the Bones estate over the past month. Two more were in a muggle graveyard outside Bristol: Maya’s parents. Dorcas Meadowes, sandwiched between Mary Macdonald and Marlene, had a handkerchief pressed to her face to stifle her sobs. She and Maya had been housemates. 

Maya had served with Remus as a Ravenclaw prefect for a year before graduation, and had always helped him find someone to take over his prefect duty when it conflicted with the full moon. She had been a powerful witch and a staunch figure of opposition against the Death Eaters, serving from inside the Ministry. But it hadn’t mattered. Edgar Bones, who had always laughed at Sirius’s jokes, no matter how terrible, had been a skilled fighter too. Remus and Sirius had both dueled beside him before. But it hadn’t made any difference, any of it. Nearly an entire family had been extinguished—all but the youngest child who had somehow, miraculously survived the attack on her home, and Edgar’s two younger siblings, safe at Hogwarts.

Remus put a hand on Sirius’s back only to find James’s already there. James’s jaw was set hard, and he had one arm each wrapped around Sirius and Lily. Lily looked pale and weepy, and while her eyes were fixed on the descending coffins, she was jiggling Harry on her knee, holding a bottle for him. Remus dropped his gaze when James looked at him, and slipped his arm lower, to wrap around Sirius’s waist. A single, ragged sob escaped Sirius’s throat, and Remus squeezed him tighter.

Later that night they lay together in bed, Remus cradling Sirius’s head against his chest, fingers curled in his hair. Sirius hadn’t cried since the funeral had ended, but the brittle silence wasn’t back either, so Remus could only take that as a good sign. He had been quiet, though. Stagnant and sad. The stillness made the isolation of the cabin feel thick and liquid around him, without Sirius’s laughter to ward it off. They were utterly alone. And there was nothing to say to make any of this better, but he had to say something. No one else was going to. 

“They’re not gone, you know, Sirius. Not really.” 

Sirius’s eyes opened, flicking up towards him, bloodshot but not teary anymore. “They’re dead, Moony. How do you figure that?”

“The Death Eaters tried to get rid of the Bones Family, because of who they were and what they did. But we still have our memories of them to guide us to follow their example. They couldn’t stamp out what we feel for Maya or Edgar or any of the others; our love for them. They couldn’t erase what they stood for. I know it’s not good: I can’t say anything to make what happened anything other than awful,” He added quickly, because something hot and angry had lit in Sirius’s eyes, “And I feel terrible too, Sirius. I wish we could have prevented it. But they won’t be forgotten. And we’ll keep fighting. And we’ll win.” Despite the fact they were losing now. Inch by inch. Life by life. They couldn’t lose. Or at least, they couldn’t stop trying to win. That seemed to satisfy Sirius, who let his eyes close again.

“I’d love to be the person to catch the ones who did it. I’d hex them off the face of the Earth.”

“I know you would. We’ll catch them.” Silence fell over the room again for a few more long minutes, then Sirius finally spoke.

“What did they do with the baby girl? Do you know?”

“Lucy? Arabella Figg is looking after her for now. She was at the funeral.” Remus could only imagine that Sirius had been too occupied—first in trying not to cry, then in crying—to spot the final surviving child of Maya and Edgar, “I don’t know what they’re going to do. I know Arabella doesn’t want a child, and Amelia and Owen can’t be expected to take care of their niece. They’re still in school. Amelia is only in fourth year, I think. I expect Dumbledore will let them stay at Hogwarts over the summers.” 

“What about us?” Sirius said abruptly, looking up at Remus, who stared straight back into Sirius’s earnest face.

“What about us?”

“You want a child. I want a child. And Lucy needs a family. We’re a family, Rem.” 

Remus swallowed the sudden lump of longing that had risen in his throat. He did want a child. He had wanted to be a father ever since he was young, and his marriage by habit and repute with Sirius had done nothing to quiet that desire. And neither had the birth of James and Lily’s son, Harry, or watching Sirius interact with his godson: reading him stories as he ate, playing peekaboo with him, tossing him up into the air as he shrieked with delight. But some things still hadn’t changed. “Sirius, we both work for the Order. Right now we can’t offer a safe home for her. The Death Eaters could take it upon themselves to kill the last living members of the Bones family at any time, and if—“

“And if they did, who’s better suited to protecting her?” Sirius asked, voice rough, “Us, or Arabella?” 

“Even so, we have targets on our own backs. The Death Eaters want us dead too. To adopt her would be to put her in danger again.” 

“Where can she go that she wouldn’t be in danger, Moony?” Sirius said, propping himself up on his elbows to stare down into Remus’s face with a mad intensity that he had only seen twice before. Once, when he had sworn to Remus he and the rest of the Marauders would find a way to help him through his transformations, and again when he had witnessed Sirius undergoing the Fidelius charm to become Lily, James and Harry’s secret-keeper. “Another member of the Order? No. Another, untested member of the wizarding community who could be a spy or a Death Eater? No. A muggle orphanage, where she might go unloved, where she wouldn’t know her history, where she wouldn’t hear about her parents? Absolutely not! We could watch over her. We could protect her. We could tell her stories about Edgar and Maya. How brave they were. How clever and kind and open-minded and noble they were. How Maya helped you. How Edgar supported me. And she could know and love them. She could know her aunt and uncle. And we would love her.”

“Sirius—“ Remus’s voice caught in his throat and he pushed himself up out of bed, knocking away Sirius’s hand as he reached after him, pacing “What about me? Once a month I’m a danger to any human around me, and a child—the least likely to understand the risks, the least able to defend themselves—is the most at risk. I can’t in good conscience—“

“Lily can look after her on the night of the full moon. Godric’s Hollow is safe. I made sure of that. And James can be our secret-keeper. We can use the Fidelius charm to protect Lucy.” Hope was feeding into the fear rising in Remus’s chest. He wanted this so badly—a child that he and Sirius could nurture and raise. That he could teach and watch grow. But the more he wanted something, the more it would hurt if it was torn away from him, and Sirius working beside him in the Order already filled him with a deep sense of unease he couldn’t rightfully express, because _of course_ Sirius should do whatever he could to help their cause. It would be cruel to suggest he do less. 

“We both do so much for the—“

“—and Edgar and Maya didn’t? And James and Lily, they aren’t? And the Longbottoms? They sit around on their arses? In ten years when all of this is over and the war is won, someone’s going to have to be entering into Hogwarts to help us rebuild after all this _shit_. It’s important. And if you think that someone out there is better suited to be a father than you, then you’re dead wrong, Moony.” Sirius was out of bed too, now, face full of fire without being angry, eyes sharp enough that it was painful to meet them. And so Remus looked away out the window instead, as Sirius moved in behind him, wrapping his arms around his chest in a painfully tight embrace that made it difficult for Remus to breathe. Sirius pressed his face into Remus’s neck, and Remus felt the wetness of his cheeks and knew that in his righteous fit, Sirius had started crying again. “Please, Moony,” He whispered into Remus’s skin, “The Order will need someone to take care of Lucy. Arabella doesn’t want to raise a child. We do. Don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Remus whispered back, sliding his arms over Sirius’s and twining their fingers together, “but—“

“Why are you trying to deny yourself this, then? Because if it’s about the werewolf thing again, we can be careful. She’ll be safe. And you _deserve_ this, Moonbeam. Just like Lucy deserves a parent worthy of filling the shoes of Edgar and Maya. And that’s you.” Remus felt like crying too, because the ache of loss and hope and fear was strong enough that if he didn’t know better, he would have thought his heart was about to burst. Sirius pulled his hands out of Remus’s, warm palms moving to his biceps, and Remus let Sirius turn him around. Their eyes met, and Sirius looked calmer again, despite the tears on his cheeks. His fingers, rough with callouses, brushed against Remus’s cheekbones, “We can talk to Arabella. Tell Dumbledore what we’re going to do. Okay?” 

Remus took a deep, steadying breath, “Okay.” And as Sirius pulled him down for a kiss, Remus could have sworn a miniature star in his chest had just gone supernova. They were going to be parents.


	2. Lucky Lucy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Sirius adopt Lucy and bring her home. Off-camera, the Order gifts them loads of baby things.

She was tiny. So, so tiny. Harry had grown so much in the last year that it was difficult to remember that not so long ago he had been this small too. Unable to hold his head up. Unable to smile or laugh or babble. Just a soft, helpless thing without teeth, and little hands that gripped onto anything placed in them. 

They were in Arabella’s house, and she was watching them with a small smile on her face as Remus cradled the sleeping infant against his chest, and Sirius gaped with open adoration. Remus couldn’t fight the feeling that he shouldn’t be allowed near something so innocent and easily hurt. As though the wolf might rear its head out of alignment with the full moon and gobble the baby up at any moment. But there she was, asleep. Unaware of her loss, or the massive changes it was creating in her life. 

“Look at her cheeks,” Sirius whispered, though they had been speaking normally earlier without waking her, “So cute and chubby. I just want to squish her little face. Look at her hands, Moony. Look at her titchy little nails.”

“I’m looking, Padfoot,” Remus murmured, glancing up to smile at Sirius, palm cradling Lucy’s head, feeling the silky threads of her hair against his palm, “This is sort of frightening.” 

“You’re telling me,” Sirius said, and let out a bark of laughter that made Lucy wrinkle her nose up in her sleep, “You’ve always been the responsible one. You’ve been looking out for me and Prongs and Wormy for ages. Think of how I’m feeling. I’m going to have to be an actual adult.” Sirius hadn’t been letting him stew in worry about his infection for any length of time. Remus wasn’t sure quite what to think of that. He didn’t want to grow complacent. He didn’t want to become comfortable enough with his lycanthropy, as it related to his parenting ability, that he ended up putting Lucy at risk. But at the same time, they had already talked about it half a dozen times. And, if Lucy spent the night of the full moon with James and Lily every month, as they had planned, Remus struggled to see how the wolf could hurt her, and he wanted this opportunity desperately. 

“You’re more mature than you let on, Pads,” Remus said, looking up from Lucy to meet Sirius’s eyes, “You’ve taken care of me as much as I’ve taken care of you these last few years.”

“You’re too sweet to me, Moony.”

“That’s impossible. Do you want to hold her?” Remus asked, taking a half-step closer to Sirius, and offering up the blanket-swaddled infant. Gingerly, they shifted Lucy so that her head was supported in the crook of Sirius’s arm, against his chest.

“Look at her cheeks!” Sirius crooned again, leaning down to press a kiss to each of Lucy’s round cheeks. Arabella laughed. 

“I knew you two would be a good fit for the job. Patience and a good nature and a sort of easy-going attitude. I told Dumbledore. You’ll both be better suited to it than me, without a doubt. She’s a sweet baby, but I’ll be glad to sleep through the night again.” 

“We have the nursery all set up,” Remus said, “James and Lily helped us expand my cabin and perform the protective charms. She should be safe.”

“You should have seen the mobile James got us,” Sirius said, smirking at Arabella, “James is trying to make a Seeker out of her. Gold snitches and broomsticks.” 

“He would,” Arabella sniffed, “But I don’t expect Lucy will mind.” 

Sirius grinned. “He’ll regret letting the quidditch bug bite her so early if she ever outplays Harry.” 

“Harry’s going to have a lot of practice with that toy broom before he’s old enough to read,” Remus mused and then, before Sirius could open his mouth, “We’re not getting her one. I’ve heard plenty of stories from Lily about broken glass and traumatized cats already.”

“But we don’t have a cat to traumatize,” Sirius said, slyly, “And we can charm all the glassware.”

“Absolutely not.” 

Sirius laughed again, “I know, I know. Don’t fuss, Moony. No toddler brooms.”

“Good.” The protective instinct that had risen in his chest at the idea of Lucy zooming around the cabin on a broom in a year surprised him with just how deep and natural it was. And, as he watched Sirius rocking Lucy in his arms, Remus really felt as though maybe Sirius was right. Maybe he would make a good parent. 

Lucy started crying after they apparated to the cabin. No surprises there. Apparition wasn’t a gentle experience even after years of practice—it made sense that a baby wouldn’t be able to sleep through it. After a bottle of formula, though, and a bit of coaxing, she settled down again, and lay blinking blearily up at Remus as he rocked her in the chair Hagrid had fashioned for them as a baby shower present. He could hear Sirius fussing around in the kitchen, scraping together something to eat for dinner, but the door blocked most of the sound. Only a whisper of wind was audible from outside, it was very peaceful. Remus could feel, or at least imagined he felt, the protective vibration of James’s oath to him and Sirius, keeping them hidden, and for the first time in months, maybe for the first time since the war had started, he felt safe. 

The sound from the kitchen quieted and, a moment later Sirius let himself into the room, licking mashed potato from a spoon and grinning at the pair of them. Remus smiled back. 

“Mummy Moony,” Sirius said, “How’s that rocking chair treating you?”

“A little big,” Remus said, resituating himself in the chair, “And it could use a cushion. But I like it. It goes with the crib. Nice of Hagrid to make it for us.” 

“I think it’s brilliant. If I had known babies got you a lot of free presents…”

Remus snorted, “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know. Chicken and mash is nearly done, Moons. And I even made vegetables, since we’re setting an example for Lucy now.”

“So you’ll make vegetables because Lucy’s watching, but not because I ask?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sirius said, ambling over to stand at Remus’s side, and peering down at Lucy’s face, fringed by dark curls, “Anything for you, Lucy-lou.”

“She’s not even eating the vegetables,” Remus pointed out, and Sirius grinned, leaning in to kiss the top of Remus’s ear. 

“Doesn’t even look like she’s going to make it to dinner. Do babies always sleep this much?”

“Well, you saw how Harry was for the first six months or so. Slept and cried.”

“And looked cute,” Sirius said, “Lucy does that too.” They were quiet for several long minutes, watching Lucy’s eyelids slip gradually closed, until she was asleep again. Remus stood up, carrying her over to the crib and laying her down inside it, wrapped snugly in her blanket. Sirius followed him and draped an arm around his waist, eyes on Remus this time, instead of Lucy. “Looks like Lucy’s luck is turning around, don’t you think, Moony?” 

“I should hope so. She’s had enough bad luck so far to last her a lifetime.” 

“How are you feeling?”

Remus considered the lingering sadness he felt about the deaths in the Bones family, his worry about his suitability as a parent and the toll the war was taking on all of them, but also just how joyful he felt in this moment, the love and peace. “Happy,” He said at last, “Really happy.”


	3. A Pre-Christmas Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius arrives home to a very sleepy Remus (and a hungry baby Lucy) with some improbably good news.

Remus was home when he heard. He was half dozing with Lucy in his lap after too many nights on patrol thrown in with the typical interrupted sleep of new parenthood. He was just conscious enough to hold the bottle upright and to dab away the occasional dribble of milk from the corners of Lucy’s mouth. She, unlike Remus, didn’t suffer the burdens of duty placed on Order members, and she, unlike Remus, didn’t seem to mind waking up two times a night. Her dark eyes were bright and round over the bottle, and she kept kicking her chubby little legs in excitement over the meal. It was late, but Remus knew he was going to need to make coffee or tea at some point, or else he’d just be left hoping that Lucy was drowsier than she seemed. Sirius wasn’t due back until tomorrow, and there was no way he could ask another Order member for help with Lucy. Not now. Now when the whole world was falling apart. 

The pop of someone apparating just outside the front door made Remus’s heart pulse with sudden, liquid terror, and he was up, awake as he had ever been. He tucked Lucy into the corner of the couch, already fussing over the sudden change in position and the loss of her bottle, which was sitting discarded on the couch beside her. His wand was in his hand, brandished at the door when Sirius, face shadowed with a few days of stubble and with wildfire eyes alight, burst into the door. Remus’s mind skipped like a scratched record to the first concrete thing he knew he should do when someone he knew entered his home.

“What’s your favorite—” He began, but Sirius didn’t let him get that far. Instead, Sirius raised his wand, and a great silver dog exploded from its tip, bright enough to make the firelight in the cabin look like a candle flame, and so solid that Remus was sure he could pet it if it only stood still long enough. But the patronus was bounding around the room like an overexcited puppy, even as Lucy started to cry in earnest. Sirius, usually attentive to his daughter’s needs before all else, bowled into Remus, throwing his arms around his shoulders and squeezing him so tightly that Remus was worried he might crack a rib. 

“He’s dead, Moony! Gone, anyway. You should see headquarters! House Cup all over again! People crying and falling all over themselves.”

“What?” If it weren’t for Lucy’s crying, Remus would have been sure he was dreaming. Even with it, he felt like he had been hit over the head with a beater’s bat. “Who? Voldemort?”

“Yes! Gone! He’s gone! The Longbottom’s son—Neville—he got rid of him!”

“What?” Remus said again. That wasn’t possible. That simply couldn’t be possible. “Neville?” Neville was an infant. Only a baby. Not much older than Lucy. “But how?”

“Don’t question it, Moony!” Sirius roared, spinning him around and kissing him hard on the mouth before springing over to the sofa and scooping Lucy up, nuzzling her cheek and kissing her brow before picking up her bottle and coaxing it back into her mouth, rocking her a little as her crying petered out. 

“Sirius…” Remus wanted to share in Sirius’s delight, but he was struggling to grasp onto the edges of the reality Sirius was presenting. Where they no longer had to fight. Where they were safe. Where he and Sirius and Lucy, the Potters, the rest of the Order, could enjoy the peace they had fought so hard to try to create. “Slow down,” Remus begged, and for once, Sirius did. He looked up from Lucy, who was drinking eagerly from the bottle, and made eye contact. His face was still bright despite the stubble and the dark circles under his eyes, but he looked more sedate. Less mad with glee. 

“Frank and Alice died,” Sirius said, and Remus saw a muscle in his jaw twitch, “We don’t know who ratted out their location, but they both died trying to protect him. According to Kingsley—he was on the patrol that responded to the tripped alarm—the house was a wreck. Smashed ornaments, exploded furniture, blood on the floors. And it must have been the Dark Arse’s because Kingsley said there wasn’t a scratch on either of them. Fought like lions, those two. No surprises there.” The reality, the good news tempered by the bad, was starting to sink in, and Remus lowered himself onto the sofa, running a hand back through his hair. Sirius cleared his throat, sniffed, then pressed on, “Their son was in his crib. Crying. Curse mark on his forehead, but—”

“The killing curse doesn’t leave a mark,” Remus said, running on pure instinct and impulse, unable to stop the simple statement of fact from slipping out, “What spell did he cast?”

“Beats me, Moony. But whatever happened didn’t go in his favor. Neville is fine except for the scar, and Dumbledore’s already arranged for his grandmother to take him. And there’s no question that the Death Eaters think he’s gone for good. People at the ministry have been sending owls left and right saying they were under the Imperius Curse. You should see the sky in London! Looks like the Great Hall at breakfast,” Sirius said with a bark of laughter, “The sidewalks are going to be covered in owl shit by tomorrow morning, and the public doesn’t even know yet. Dung got himself arrested by some auror—not one of ours—over a load of Dr. Filibuster's Fireworks he set off in the street. But that won’t be the worst they see in terms of Statute of Secrecy violations. I know it. Wonder what the muggles will think.”

“They’ll come up with something,” Remus said, voice muffled by his hands as he dragged them down his face, “Weather patterns or Christmas lights confusing the owls or pesticides or something. The conspiracy theorists will blame the Soviets, probably.”

“The what?”

“You’re such a pureblood.” Sirius made an offended sound, but settled next to Remus on the couch. Despite all the excitement, Lucy had almost drained her bottle and her eyelids were starting to droop. 

“She doesn’t even know there’s good news,” Sirius mused, looking down at Lucy. 

“She knows you’re here. She knows we’re both here at the same time,” Remus said, reaching over to brush Lucy’s dark hair back from her brow, “She seems pretty pleased about that.”

“She’s sleepy, Rem. There’s a difference between happy and sleepy. Someone as sleep-deprived as you should know that. Anyway, if Lucy-lou is happy about anything, it’s that she got to finish her dinner and I quieted down enough that she could get ready for her nap.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Remus mused, “I think she settles down better when you’re here.” 

“You’re just saying that,” Sirius said, but he was smiling anyway, gazing down at Lucy, nodding off in his arms. “It’ll be great, you know, not worrying that every time I leave the cabin will be my last time holding her. That I might not ever get to see her grow up. Not having to think about what I could come home to find.” Remus had been plagued by those thoughts too—preparing himself every time before he returned to the cabin to find the Dark Mark floating over it. Expecting death on every patrol. Now, apparently, concerns of the past. But the happiness hadn’t come without sacrifice.

“Do they have a date for the funeral yet?” Remus asked after a long lapse of silence, and Sirius shook his head. 

“Not yet. I’m sure they’ll have it set by tomorrow, though. I rushed home to tell you pretty soon after Kingsley and his lot came back. But come on, Remus. I know it’s sad. They were great people. Fantastic aurors, good friends. But it’s been years of bad news and… let’s just let it all sink in, alright? We won. They won. Now let’s put Lucy to bed and go to sleep.” Remus lifted his face from his hands, and gave Sirius a once-over, a little surprised to hear such level-headed and moderate advice coming from him. Sirius pulled a smile, leaned in to give Remus another peck on the lips, then stood up, starting for the nursery. 

“Merlin. It’s going to be the first time in weeks we’ve shared a bed,” Remus said, standing up and trailing after Sirius, leaning against the doorframe as Sirius swaddled Lucy in a blanket and placed her in her crib, rubbing her tummy until she lay still and peaceful. 

“Yeah,” Sirius murmured as he withdrew a little, still gazing down at their daughter—who seemed so much safer now than she had even an hour ago, “And I’ve got bad news for you, Moony. I’m calling dibs on big spoon.”


	4. On Platform 9 ¾

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years flew by in a heartbeat, and Remus and Sirius find themselves saying goodbye to their daughter in King's Cross as she heads off to Hogwarts for the first time.

“I still can’t believe you bought her that one,” Remus murmured to Sirius as they walked down Platform 9 ¾, following Lucy, who was drinking in the Hogwarts Express and the mess of other enthusiastic students on the platform hungrily. The great grey owl perched on its shoulder could easily look over her head with its single remaining eye. 

“She took a shine to it,” Sirius answered, grinning at the owl, who returned only a suspicious yellow gaze, “Anyway, it’s intimidating.”

“And remind me why that’s a good quality for a mail owl?” Remus joked, and Sirius pulled a lopsided grin.

“It’s not. The monster scared me into buying it.” The owl let out a mournful hoot before turning its attention to trying to groom Lucy’s curls with its beak. 

“Are you bullying Plumby?” Lucy asked, turning over her shoulder to narrow her eyes at Remus and Sirius, “He’s not a monster. He’s a sweetheart. He can’t help being enormous, or having lost an eye.” Apparently satisfied with this defense, Plumby ruffled up his feathers and gave Lucy’s ear a little nibble. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Lou,” Sirius said, and then added in a stage whisper to Remus, “Absolute monster, you hear me?” Lucy wrinkled her nose at him, and gave a frown that didn’t quite disguise a smile. 

“Dad, please.”

“Sorry, sorry. He’s a fine owl. Looks like even the storm of a century couldn’t stop him.”

“Merlin, it’s been so long since I’ve been back here,” Remus said as he found an empty place where they could stand and say their goodbyes, “Do you remember your first ride on the Hogwarts Express, Sirius?”

“Course I do. I met James. Otherwise utterly mediocre, though. Not sure if your papa’s told you or not, but his first trip was an utter disaster. He sat in a car of Slytherin sixth years and cried the first fifteen minutes.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with crying,” Remus said, casting a glance at Sirius, “It’s natural to feel sad or lonely or nervous leaving home for the first time. But don’t sit with sixth years. That was a bad idea on my part.”

“I’m not going to cry, papa. And I’m not nervous. I’ve been dying for ages to learn magic and see all the ghosts, and find the secret passages, and look for your map—” Lucy said, and Remus brought his hand to his face at the same time as Sirius grimaced.

“The Map? Sirius, I thought we’d agreed—” 

“Not until fourth year. Yeah, I know. But it slipped out. Couldn’t help myself. Hope by the time you find it you learn to keep secrets better than that, Lou,” Sirius said playfully.

“Well, that wasn’t an important secret, was it? Can’t stop me finding it while I’m at Hogwarts.”

“She’s got a point,” Sirius said, and Remus nudged an elbow into his ribs. Sirius cleared his throat and put on a voice that Remus had come to this of as his fatherly tone. 

“Really, though, Lucy, the map has the spirit of four troublesome teenage boys in it. Only Remus had any sense, and Peter became a Death Eater. So keep that in mind if and when you use the thing. It’s full of bright ideas that will land you in detention.”

“The number of lines your dad and Uncle James wrote… Between them you’d have a whole set of encyclopedias,” Remus said with a wry smile, “Ah. Speak of the devil. There’s James and Lily. Where’s—” 

“Hey, Harry!” Lucy shouted at Harry, who looked like a near perfect James in miniature, except in Hogwarts robes, maneuvering his overladen trolley around several hundred spilled live beetles, “Nice owl! What’s its name?”

“Her name’s Hedwig. I read it in _A History of Magic_ ,” Harry said, peering down at the snowy owl stowed in her cage on top of his trunk, “I like yours too. Really cool. What’s it called?” 

“Plumby. He came named already, but he doesn’t seem to mind it. Hi Aunt Lily, Uncle James,” Lucy said, and gingerly transferred the grey owl from her shoulder to his cage before going to hug them both. Then she and Harry set to talking about house prospects and the classes they were most excited for, how soon Professor McGonagall might let them start learning to be animagi, before breaking into whispers. Remus was almost positive he heard the words ‘invisibility cloak’ thrown in. They’d learn quickly to be a little cleverer in hiding their plans for mischief. 

Sirius threw his arms around Lily and James, dragging them both in for a hug at the same time, before pulling away just far enough to turn and wrap his arms around their shoulders. “Merlin. The time flies, doesn’t it? Don’t you wish you were getting back on that train?”

“Depends on the year,” Lily said, reaching up to give Sirius’s hand a squeeze, “Because if it’s fourth year, when you and James both thought you could grow facial hair and start a punk duo, then I’m not sure. But I always liked prefect duty with Dorcas… And you weren’t bad either, Remus, except when you were trying to talk up James to me.”

“What can I say?” Remus said with a tiny shrug, “I was bribed.”

“Who was right, though?” James asked gleefully, twisting out of Sirius’s arm to kiss Lily on the cheek, “You were missing out on dating me.”

“I told you that I would if you’d only stop being such an arrogant twit,” Lily said, smiling at the kiss anyway, “I’m glad Lucy will be going to Hogwarts with Harry. I remember feeling so alone those first few weeks of school, before I’d warmed up to anyone in my house. I don’t know what I would have done without—”

“Don’t say it,” James groaned, but Lily pressed on.

“Severus. I’m not saying I approve of him or his life choices, James, you know that. But he was a good friend for those first couple years. And I don’t think Lucy is prone to the same sort of mistakes. Or Harry.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Remus agreed, watching the children chatting happily, and bemoaning the fact that they couldn’t go to Hogsmeade until third year. As though they wouldn’t have more than enough to occupy their time before then. Lily checked the platform clock, then with a final squeeze of his hand, stepped out of Sirius’s hold and away from James. “We better get your trunk loaded up, Harry. Do you two want to sit together?”

“Yes, please,” Lucy said, picking up Plumby’s cage, “Hey, dad, could you help with my trunk?” Lily was already levitating Harry’s trunk onto the train before Sirius, who’d somehow managed to get into a play duel with James in a matter of fifteen seconds, managed to tear himself away, putting up a shield charm to deflect a dancing hex and giving James a rude hand gesture behind his back before hurrying to help Lucy. It only took a couple minutes to get all the baggage situated, and Remus and Sirius broke away from James and Lily, so they could both say a private goodbye to their respective children. 

Sirius wrapped Lucy up in a bear hug, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Just so you know, whatever house you end up in, I’m so proud of you, Lucy. And I mean it. Including Slytherin. I’ll change the couch to green and silver and buy a Slytherin scarf. Because getting put in a house doesn’t change who you are, and Remus and I both love the person you’ve grown into. I know your mother and father would be too.” Remus felt tears prickle in his eyes as he remembered that first day meeting a newly-orphaned Lucy. How tiny she’d been in his arms. How _terrified_ he had been that he’d do something wrong and hurt her. And now she was a sweet and clever girl, excited to go off to Hogwarts. To learn and grow. He missed the tail end of Sirius and Lucy’s goodbye as he had to fish a handkerchief out of his pocket to blow his nose. 

“Oh no,” Sirius said, half distraught, half laughing, “Remus is crying. Go hug him, Lou.” 

Lucy ran forward to wrap her arms around Remus’s chest—still so small, but so, so much taller than she had been not so long ago—and Remus hugged her back. “I love you, Papa,” Lucy said, squeezing tighter for a second, then stepping back, “Don’t miss me too much. I’ll send you lots of letters. Plumby will need exercise.”

“And you’ll study hard?” Remus said as he struggled to compose himself, heart aching with pride and loss—for the witch she would become, for the baby he’d had. 

“I will.”

“And have fun?”

“Loads.”

“And stay safe?”

“I promise.”

“Stay out of the Forbidden Forest. I mean it. But other than that, the castle doesn’t have much you won’t learn to handle,” Remus said, and then he gave her one last hug before drawing away for good. He stepped backwards into Sirius, who had his arms open to catch him. They waved together as Lucy disappeared onto the train, and waved again at her joyful face in the window as the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station. 

“What did I tell you, Moons?” Sirius said into his ear, breath warm, arms warmer, “We make damn good parents.” 

Remus chuckled, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Sirius’s face, “I guess you’re right. We did a good job.”


End file.
